


In Which Impulse Lives Up To His Name

by BeeWitchingNights (beewitch)



Category: DC Extended Universe, Impulse (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Come Marking, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beewitch/pseuds/BeeWitchingNights
Summary: “Bart,” Max warned “you really don’t want to be on my chest.”Bart just never seems to know when to stop.(How that scene really should've ended)
Relationships: Bart Allen/Max Mercury
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	In Which Impulse Lives Up To His Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noctiphany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/gifts).

> Fun game: take a shot every time I mention how small Bart is you'll be plastered by the end of this fic. A belated birthday gift for Mal, with whom I share a single brain cell and can probably blame for getting me into Max/Bart. Read her shit it's fucking fantastic.

“Bart,” Max warned “you really don’t want to be on my chest.”

Bart’s sweater hung loose on his small frame, collarbones and a hint of a nipple peeking out. Max swallowed. Bart had no sense of personal space, a trait Max both loved and cursed. His protege was entirely too comfortable perched up on his chest, slender legs spread wide to accommodate his broad chest. Bart’s hand slid down his chest, and quickly he snatched his wrist as it slid under his shirt. His wrist was so small, just like the rest of him, so warm against his chest - he shook his head before his thoughts went any further than that. Bart was far too good at distracting him. 

Bart sat up on his heels, weight shifting over onto Max’s groin. His free hand rubbed at Max’s upper chest slowly. 

“Hey, y’know you’re pretty fit for a guy who lives in his chair.”

Max snorted. He knew that Bart had an idea of just how much he did, the kid just couldn’t help but be a brat at every opportunity. 

Bart didn’t even look up at him once as his free hand pushed up Max’s shirt. Small fingers traced over the definition of his muscles. Max shivered, his grasp loosening enough to allow Bart to free his other hand. He bent down close enough that Max could feel his warm breath on his bared skin. Goosebumps rippled across his skin. With a little giggle, Bart poked at a now hard nipple. 

“Bart.”

Max sounded strained, even to himself. Bart gave him a quick glance and giggled again. 

“Old man, you’re just gonna give yourself more wrinkles frowning like that. Then what will the jogging club think! Hey do you think I’ll get wrinkles? ‘Cause you know, I don’t frown anywhere near as much as you. Maybe you could take lessons from me on how to be less frowny!” 

A finger poked at the crease between his eyebrows. Bart pushed the skin around, squishing his face into weird contortions. Max huffed and slapped his hand away. Almost immediately Bart’s attention was drawn back to Max’s nipple again. He poked it again. Almost tentatively, Bart poked out his tongue and licked the tip of his nipple. 

Max was so surprised that Bart had actually hesitated, for almost a moment, that he didn’t immediately process what Bart had just done. Those few milliseconds were just enough time for Bart to decide he would, this time, suck on the whole nipple. 

“Bart!”

Bart pulled back quickly, guilt written across his face - and froze. His hips gave a little wiggle. 

“Wow Max, you wear an armoured jock even around the house? Should I? How is that even comfortable? Is that why you’re so grumpy and such a tight ass-”

Max slapped a hand over Bart’s mouth, only to withdraw instantly as Bart bit him. Sometimes he swore that kid was trying to drive him into an early grave. Why couldn’t he have at least gotten a kid as well behaved as Robin? He doubted Robin bit Batman and talked back. Or ate anywhere near as much. 

Max was distracted from his musing as a hand was shoved down his pants. Said hand, was definitely not his. Max yelled. 

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod-” Bart couldn't stop babbling. 

Max couldn’t help but buck his hips up into that warm embrace. The wave of self-loathing immediately after almost made it not worth it. Almost. 

Bart rubbed his cock.

“Oh frag, that’s your dick! Wow, it’s way bigger than mine.”

Bart blushed and bit his lip.

“Uh, forget I said that.”

Max groaned. Either Bart thought this was appropriate behaviour - which he doubted, despite the kid’s sometimes skewed morals - or he just didn’t care. The longer those delicate fingers massaged his cock, the less he cared too. A finger stroked along his balls. Bart laughed as he twitched, cock jumping in his hand. He pulled out his hand to Max’s relief. His cock hurt he was so hard. He was torn between letting Bart do what he wanted, or doing the responsible thing and scolding him. 

Until Bart sat back over his cock and licked the precum off his fingers. 

All of his rational thoughts and worries faded away. His focus narrowed down to the slender, cute boy in his lap making small noises as he lapped up Max’s precum. A large, rough finger came up to trace his boy’s lip. Bart hummed as his tongue darted out to lap at it. Quickly Max grabbed his tongue, thumb rubbing over top. Bart’s saliva coated hand gripped at his wrist, leaving him sticky. Max’s thumb felt coarse in comparison, dragging over his tongue before two fingers slipped into his mouth. Bart’s mouth looked so small, chapped lips wrapped around his fingers. He couldn’t help but imagine how they’d feel around his cock, the smooth warmth of his mouth, dry lips catching on his skin. Bart wriggled his hips impatiently, leaning forward to rub his own dick against Max. Max cursed. 

“Come up here my boy. Let me teach you.”

Max’s raspy voice had Bart shuddering but obediently moving up his chest. Max fumbled one-handedly with Bart’s zipper until Bart caught on. Excitedly Bart threw off his pants, small, leaking cock springing forward. His large sweater (Max swore that was once his sweater,  _ his _ mark on  _ his _ boy) hung loose off one shoulder, delicate collarbone and tiny rosebud of a nipple peeking out. Flushed cheeks, lidded eyes, wild hair - Max had never seen such a pretty sight. 

He was going to ruin him. 

His hand dwarfed Bart’s hip as he tugged him up to his face. His ass felt soft as he trailed his fingers down to it, stroking along the slight beginnings of muscular definition. Impatiently Bart rutted down against his lips. Everything about him was so small, so - childlike. A beautiful, lithe sculpture of a boy, panting around his fingers just from the slight stimulation. The cry he let out as Max licked the precum drooling from his tip, smearing along his lips, was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. His hips desperately rocked forward and into Max’s open mouth. 

Drool dripped from Bart’s lips as he panted and moaned. He couldn’t help but wildly hump into Max’s mouth, eyes rolling back into his head. Max wasn’t even sure the boy really knew what an orgasm was, let alone if he’d even had one before. All Bart could do was whimper incoherently above him, hands fisted tightly into Max’s hair. Max couldn’t get enough of his boy, so overwhelmed with pleasure. Bart’s small cock felt so perfect in his mouth. So easy to swallow down, to play with as he sucked. So sensitive to each and every lick, twitching, spilling copious amounts of precum. And he was so  _ loud _ . So open in his pleasure, too innocent to feel shame in the noises he made.

Max slid his spit soaked fingers out of Bart’s mouth, small tongue chasing after them. He pinched Bart’s nipple under his shirt and watched, awestruck, as he came. Back arched prettily, spit soaked lips parted, thighs trembling as he rabbited into Max’s mouth and then froze. High whines escaped, unhindered by Max’s fingers. Max greedily drank down his cum, pulling his hips down to push his cock even deeper into Max’s mouth. He licked and sucked frantically, trying to milk more out of him. His boy tasted so good, sounded so good - was so good. So perfect and pretty for him as he cried and writhed, overstimulation dragging more noises from him. Bart pulled away, trying to escape the overwhelming, borderline painful pleasure. Max followed after his cock with a few licks before he let Bart collapse next to him.

Bart lay limp, panting, too exhausted to even wipe away the few tears leaking down his face. Max crawled over top of him and tugged out his cock, so large and intimidating compared to the small boy under him. Bart watched with lidded eyes as Max jerked himself off, too wound up to even pretend he wasn’t using his speed powers. 

“Open your mouth, there’s a good boy.”

Bart obeyed, tongue lolling as he stared up, trusting in Max wholly. With a groan he painted Bart’s face in cum, a few drops staining the sweater. Bart jumped at the first splash, but opened his mouth even wider. Max wiped the tip of his cock onto Bart’s tongue. Bart scrunched his nose at the taste but stayed still, letting Max use him to clean himself. Satisfied, Max sat back on his heels to admire the sight. Cum dripped down Bart’s face, down his neck and pooled in his collarbone, mixed with saliva and tears. 

Bart shivered as Max stroked his hair. 

Cheekily, he grinned up at Max. Warning bells went off in Max’s head. 

“I think I might need to try that again to really get it. Can we do it a few more times?” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this you can find me on Twitter @beewitchwrites where I yell about ships and writing, and sometimes post polls to help me pick what to write next. If you have any suggestions for future fics (kinks, pairings, fun toys whatever) feel free to drop them in the comments section. The nastier the better! (Requests aren't guaranteed to be written, sorry!)


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